


Walk Away

by AstronautMikeDexter



Category: Homeland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 12:37:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2309906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstronautMikeDexter/pseuds/AstronautMikeDexter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quinn sighed; he’d known that this would be hard to do. After almost two years of denying his feelings for Carrie, it was excruciating for him to walk away like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walk Away

**Author's Note:**

> First ever fic, don't be too hard on me. I'm going insane waiting for season 4 to start and I need some sort of outlet- you can only watch the new season trailer so many times. ;)
> 
> This is how I imagine a S4 Carrie/Quinn hook-up would end... As much as I'm rooting for these two crazy kids, I can't help but think it will be pretty messy. 
> 
> A quick disclaimer: I don't own homeland, or any of its affiliated characters. Please don't sue me.

Carrie sighed and stood up from her stack of files to pour a second glass of wine for herself. As she reached for the bottle, she heard an unexpected knock on her door. Brow furrowed, she walked over to the peep hole and gazed through – it was Quinn. She opened the door, gesturing him inside.

“Hey,” she said, her voice not masking her surprise. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Quinn responded, pausing. “It’s just… It was a rough day today. I wanted to check in and make sure you’re alright.” He glanced at the bottle still in her hand, concern showing on his face. “Taking the edge off, I see.”

Carrie ran her free hand through her hair, taking time to choose her words carefully. She hated feeling weak or vulnerable, and even more than this, she hated making mistakes. She had fucked things up today at work, miscalculating a drone strike and hitting innocent civilians instead of their target.

“I’m about as well as someone who massively fucked up and killed a dozen innocent people can be,” she said, looking at the ground and then meeting Quinn’s eyes. She cursed herself for wanting to find some comfort or reassurance there.

“Carrie, you can’t shoulder the blame for what happened today, you know that. We all thought we had the right site. You didn’t make that decision alone.”

“I gave the orders, Quinn… It was my operation. If anyone should take the fault for it, it should be me," she said, trying to control the quiver of emotion in her voice and failing.

Quinn gently reached out and took the bottle of wine from her, setting it on the counter. He put his hand on her shoulder, trying in vain to comfort her. “You know that’s a dangerous road to go down. Internalizing everything that goes wrong, letting this shit tear you up inside…. The only thing you destroy is yourself.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Quinn,” she responded, more angrily than she meant to. “You’re the one who keeps saying that nothing can justify this sort of collateral damage.”

Quinn didn’t respond.

“I’ve been wondering for a while…” She trailed off, pausing. “I mean, why are you still even here? Why haven’t you quit the CIA yet?” Carrie asked. Her voice conveyed more curiosity than accusation. "From the way you talked last year after Javadi's double homicide, I thought you'd be out months ago."

“I’m here for you,” he replied simply and truthfully, unsure of how else to answer the question.

Carrie looked up at him, her brow furrowed as she searched his face. To Quinn’s surprise, she leaned forward and kissed him.

 ------------------------------ 

Carrie woke up early the next morning, slowly remembering the events of the previous night.

_Shit. Did we…_

She carefully turned her head to look at the other side of her bed. Quinn was gone. She scanned the room... Her clothes were strewn about haphazardly on the floor, but she saw no sign of his belongings. Carrie was used to being the one to sneak out early and unnoticed the morning after; she tried her best to ignore the small twinge of hurt that she felt at this realization.

She sat up, still bleary-eyed, and walked to the bathroom. Carried briefly wondered if maybe it had just been a very vivid dream (which, although she would never admit it, would not have been the first she’d had about Quinn). As she thought back to the previous night's events, Carrie grinned despite herself. It had been a welcome change of pace from falling asleep over piles of paperwork like she did most evenings, and she also noted how nice it was to be thinking about someone besides Brody for a few minutes out of the day. The last few months had been a haze of distractions - throwing herself into work, running from her problems, and occasionally drinking until she couldn't feel anything anymore. For the first time since Brody's death, she found herself feeling hopeful that the black clouds following her around might eventually lift. 

\------------------------------- 

Carrie walked to the building’s back entrance after work. Peering into the dark, she could see Quinn, staring out into the night and smoking a cigarette.

Carrie had tried her best to corner Quinn and find a time to talk about what had happened between them. She had even gotten to work early (for the first time in weeks), only to find him already deep in conversation with Fara over a file spread out in front of them. It seemed as if Quinn was always at least one step ahead of her; as soon as she let her guard down and got into a heated debate with Virgil about where to get lunch, she looked up and he was gone. As the day wore on, it become increasingly clear to Carrie that these events weren’t coincidental.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she said as she closed the door and walked towards him, trying her best to mask the hurt in her voice.

“I haven’t,” he responded, turning his head to look at her briefly.

“Don’t bullshit me, Quinn,” she warned. She held out her own cigarette, wordlessly asking him for a light. 

Quinn turned towards her. “Did you really want to talk about this in front of Saul?” he asked with amusement.

Carrie scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure Saul thinks I fucked you years ago,” she said dismissively as he lit her cigarette for her. Quinn laughed; Carrie noted to herself how rarely he seemed to do that. They stood in silence for a few moments together, smoking and looking out at the city. Finally, Quinn spoke. 

“Carrie, last night was…” He turned away from her, searching for the right words. “It was great, but it should never have happened.”

Carrie was surprised. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting from Quinn, but it hadn’t been that. 

“That bad, huh?” she smirked, trying to mask her emotion with sarcasm.

“What? No,” Quinn responded, perhaps a little too quickly. “Carrie… We both know you’re still grieving for Brody,” he said gently.

Carrie felt her hurt and confusion turn into anger. “What are you saying, Quinn? That the last man I cared about ended up being hung from a fucking crane, so I’m not capable of being with anyone else?” She felt her frustration rising up and suffocating her, and she silently cursed Quinn's ability to mask his emotions in a way that she couldn't.

Quinn sighed; he’d known that this would be hard to do. After almost two years of denying his feelings for Carrie, it was excruciating for him to walk away like this; to make things even more difficult, he knew the subject of Brody was still a touchy one.

“Can you really, honestly, say that you’re ready move on from his death? That you’ve processed all the shit that happened?” Quinn said, raking his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, but I’m not willing to be some sort of fucking Brody surrogate for you… I care about you too much to do that." 

Carrie was not a woman who was rendered speechless very often, but she found herself at a loss for how to respond. As much as she wanted to defend herself, she knew that his point was a valid one.

“Carrie… You’re still in love with a dead man,” he said simply. He dropped the remainder of his cigarette and put it out with the heel of his boot. Carrie watched as he walked back into the darkness.


End file.
